The Boss
by Hurricane Jane
Summary: Set just before season six. Willow expresses some doubts to Tara.


Waking up made her feel sick. It made everything real.

She'd been hiding it well and trying to assume her role as the new leader, but it was breaking her. She was far more powerful than ever and every single one of them trusted her with their lives, but it didn't fill the gaping empty feeling in her heart. Now that life was starting to become day to day again, Willow's shoulders only got heavier.

Buffy was really gone.

She never slept through the night anymore. She couldn't. She had too much to worry about. Willow tried not to show jealousy as Tara slept soundly beside her. Somewhere in Willow's paranoid mind, she felt like Tara would know, even in her sleep, that she was giving her dirty looks.

It was that awkward time between late and early. She couldn't see the clock from where she was. It was on Tara's side of the bed.

Patrolling that night had been a disaster. It was rainy and cold and miserable. Dawn's head wasn't in it, Xander was a mess, BuffyBot malfunctioned twice, Anya was particularly crabby and Willow took a few too many blows before Tara got a stake in the last one. Some nights the gang worked like a well-oiled machine. Some nights the machine didn't work at all.

It had been one of the nights when the machine didn't work.

She winced as she stretched. Her sides hurt. It was nothing major, just enough to make her careful for a few days and remind her of how much of a slayer she wasn't. Tara stirred beside her. The arm that was draped lazily around Willow's waist tightened into protection. She felt Tara lean into her back. The warmth that normally soothed her made her stiffen.

"What's wrong?" Tara's voice was muffled by Willow's skin. It was monotone, Willow could hear that Tara's eyes were closed. Her body didn't move. She wondered if Tara was even actually awake.

"Nothing," Willow whispered the lie. "Go back to sleep."

She didn't know how to say any of it aloud. She didn't know how to admit it. She was so goddamn scared.

"Do you wanna talk?" Tara asked, her voice still as tired. She had ceased all gestures of affection after Willow turned her head out of a simple kiss in the kitchen when they got home. Tara knew Willow wasn't right, but she knew pushing her would only result in yelling. It was no secret that Willow had been tense and unsettled since Buffy's passing, but Tara thought she saw a lot more of it than the rest of the group.

"No," Willow replied, trying to hide the fact that she'd been crying and doing a bad job. What if it had been one of them instead? What if Anya was tossed over the headstone and had bruises up and down her sides instead of Willow? What if it had been Dawn? What if it had been Tara?

Spike was stronger than all of them and had a guilty, protective arm around Dawn most of the time. Willow was grateful for it and told him so after too much to drink one night at The Bronze post patrol. He seemed to silently understand what she was going through. She couldn't thank him enough for not pressing the issue. He just shot her a smile, raised a brow and tipped his glass to her.

Dawn was down the hall, hopefully sleeping soundly. Willow was doing everything she could to make the daylight hours as normal as possible for her. She did Dawn's laundry and made her breakfast and filled in a motherly role as best she knew how. She helped Dawn with her homework, asked about school and tried her damnedest to make balanced dinners that she, Dawn and Tara would eat at the table. She made Dawn drink milk and eat vegetables. She didn't let her stay up all night watching TV. She thought the routine would help Dawn get something of a normal life back.

One of the only resolves she had during the whole mess was watching Tara and Dawn together. It made Willow fall even more in love. Tara had a way with Dawn that Willow didn't. She made Dawn laugh. None of them had laughed much since the night they lost Buffy. Tara kept things light at home for Dawn. She played games and insisted on ice cream in bed against Willow's better intentions. She rented funny movies and proposed impromptu sleepovers in the living room where they'd all bring their sleeping bags downstairs and make forts out of the couch cushions and giggle over nonsense. Every now and again Tara did some parenting, per Willow's request, but for the most part, she felt like Dawn had suffered enough.

They all had.

"Alright," Tara sighed, gently resting her hand on Willow's hip. She wanted to kiss her, wanted to hold her, wanted to take her hand, something, but Willow was frigid. Tara knew the best she could do was just be there when she came around. "If you change your mind, I'm awake."

Willow forced herself not to feel bad or responsible for BuffyBot who was charging in Buffy's old room. She was constantly reminding herself that BuffyBot was a machine, but her uncanny resemblance to the real thing made it almost impossible. BuffyBot's frequent malfunctions due to over use in patrolling kept Willow busy with repairs. She was glad for the technical hands-on distraction, but knew it was only a matter of time before BuffyBot would break down completely. It would be another day Willow couldn't make everything better for all of them. Another day she was going to fail them.

"I don't think I can do it," Willow finally broke the silence. Tara was almost asleep again. Willow could feel it. Her arm was heavier against her side and Tara's breath on the back of her neck slowed down.

"Hm?" Tara lifted her head off the pillow. She squinted in the dark. "Do what?"

Tara tried to hide her surprise when Willow rolled over and wrapped her arms around her. She clung to her, fitting her cheek against Tara's chest and threading her legs between Tara's. She'd been so cold to physical affection lately that any she showed Tara was a treat. They hadn't had sex in more days than Tara was willing to count. Willow avoided kisses and twisted into the fetal position of the little spoon every time Tara turned the bedside lamp off.

Willow didn't say anything. She was crying quietly, still trying to hide it even though Tara's collar bones were wet with tears.

"Shhh," Tara tried. She pressed a long kiss to the top of Willow's head. Willow didn't budge. "Talk to me."

"I can't be the boss," Willow pushed out through tears. She was trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible. She didn't want anyone else to know.

"Willow," Tara began, her voice a blend of soothing and warning. "What are you talking about?"

She didn't know how to answer. She didn't know where to start. Willow took a deep, shaking breath.

"I can't protect all of you," she tried again, her voice catching. Tara held her closer.

"Nobody asked you to," Tara replied. Their voices felt small in the big room. It wasn't until recently that Tara had really started feeling at home in Joyce's bed. They had their own sheets and their clothes filled Joyce's closet. Their shirts and socks and pajamas weren't even separated in Joyce's dresser. There was less 'mine-and-yours' and a lot more 'ours' but the wallpaper was still the same. The rug was still the same. She knew Willow had a much harder time with it than she did, so Tara never brought it up.

They hadn't touched anything in Buffy's room.

BuffyBot's chargers and cables and the computers Willow used specifically for her were the only new additions to the Slayer's bedroom. It had been Dawn's idea to move BuffyBot in there from the dining room. She said it made sense, and she didn't like BuffyBot to have to sit in the uncomfortable chairs all night while she charged. Willow reminded her that BuffyBot was off all night and didn't know the chair was uncomfortable and went into a long, rambling speech about muscles and discomfort and circulation and how none of that related to BuffyBot's mechanical state at all, but was cut off by Tara agreeing with Dawn that BuffyBot should be able to sleep lying down like the rest of them. The argument carried into their room where Willow snapped on at how stupid the whole thing was. Tara reminded her that they were letting Dawn have anything she wanted, within reason, and what harm did it do to let the robot charge in Buffy's room anyway?

Willow couldn't muster up the courage to confess that she wanted to keep BuffyBot out of Buffy's room because she didn't want to have to go in there. There were too many memories.

"I can't be your Buffy," Willow hiccupped. Her shoulders shook. Tara bit her lip. It was worse than she thought.

"Well, good, cause I want you to focus on being my Willow," Tara kissed Willow's forehead.

"You know what I mean," Willow sniffled, a fleeting feeling of guilt passing that she was teary and runny-noising all over Tara's fair chest. Tara didn't seem to notice or mind.

"I do," Tara replied, adjusting her arms so she was holding Willow more comfortably. "And I hate that you feel you need to be everyone's Buffy."

"I can't not," Willow's voice was high and strangled by the crying. "They all need me."

"Babe," Tara began. She paused to leave a few more kisses on Willow's forehead. "We all need each other right now." Her voice was slow and quiet, somewhere between a whisper and a hush. Willow could hear Tara's relaxed heartbeat. Tara ran her hand gently over Willow's bare back, trying to calm her down.

"But Dawn-"

"Dawn is doing wonderfully," Tara cut her off. "And you know that. You are doing a beautiful job with Dawn. But I know all of that isn't just for Dawn's benefit." Tara kept a steady hand.

"Of course it is!" Willow yelped.

"I think you're doing it for you, too. And me. I think it's great. I'm glad you want to establish some normalcy." Tara's voice had shed all of it's sleepiness. Willow could see in the dark that Tara's eyes were open now. Not quite all the way. When they were alone and when everything was calm, it astounded Willow how sure of herself Tara was. Her speech was firm. Her movements were deliberate. She was so reassuring. "But the fact of the matter is, nothing around here is going to be normal ever again."

"I know that, which is why I need to-"

"And none of that is your fault," Tara overpowered Willow once more. Her firm voice and strong arms were making her words that much more convincing. Willow didn't respond for a while. They both lay still in the dark. Tara periodically kissed Willow's forehead. Willow gradually stopped crying so hard. The black behind the windows was slowly turning gray. Nobody slept. Tara didn't close her eyes. Willow tried to.

"Are you sure?" Willow got out in a husky whisper. Her voice was hoarse from trying not to cry.

"Completely." Tara replied. She felt Willow start to relax against her.

"Promise?" Willow asked.

"Promise," Tara whispered back.


End file.
